Scars
by hfish7
Summary: Everyone has them. Scars tell the stories of a person's life, the good, the bad, and ugly. It's been a beyond tough few months for the men of Bravo Team, leaving them all scared physically and emotionally. Just when things are looking "normal" again, something starts to feel off. When it doesn't go away, Blackburn makes a decision that he hopes will benefit the team: counselling.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Something Off**

**Bravo team is finally whole again. Clay has returned to active duty, Ray has mended his relationships, Jason has adjusted to life with a college student, and things are back to normal. But then, after everything that happened to them, what is normal? Missions have been successful, but yet something feels off. The men notice it, but try to ignore it. When Command sees that the something isn't going away, they decide to reach out to two close friends, and do something about it. The speed bump will come in seeing how the men react to their new assignment: mandatory therapy sessions with professional military psychologists.**

Clay stood and pulled up the waistband of his multi-camo pants, glancing only briefly at the scars that twisted around the front of his thighs. As he tightened the belt around his waist, he looked around the room at his team, and realized that they were right. It had been a few months since his accident, and he hardly even noticed the scars anymore. When it was first said, he wasn't so sure, but the more he thought about it, he remembered that each man on the team had their own scar that they rarely pay attention to. Jason had a large, circular one on his left shoulder, Sonny's wrapped around his left side, under his pec and across his top ab muscles, Trent had one on his right hip, Brock's covered most of the back of his left thigh, and Ray had one that twisted around his right bicep. They all had multiple, some more than others, and each one of them had its own story. Before he could disappear further into his thoughts, the door to the team room opened, and Davis walked in.

"Plane's loaded, just waiting on you guys. Wheels up in 10." She said.

"You hear that Blondie? Better get your shirt on the right way this time!" Sonny joked.

"Yea? Well at least I know which feet my boots go on!" Clay shot back.

"Ok, that was one time, and it's not my fault Brock kept me out drinking all night!" Sonny defended himself against the snickers that sounded in the room at the memory of Sonny nearly going face first into the table in the team room when he had tried to book it out of his hutch to fast. The joking continued as the team made their way down the hall towards the plane, ready to board.

**Hours later, in country**

"Havoc, this is one, passing Kilimanjaro." Jason said, leading his team through the hills.

"Copy one, passing kilimanjaro. Havoc out." Eric replied, and marked off the next box on the board before returning to watch the monitors in front of him.

"Remind me again why we chose mountains? And why they got all these weird names no one 'n pronounce?" Sonny asked, grumbling about the checkpoint names.

"Well I mean, we've cleaned through our rotation of celebrities, movies, and sports, so this was next up. Gotta keep something interesting for Havoc." Ray answered.

"Not to mention the fact that we've been running up these damned mountains for the last hour!" Brock huffed with slight annoyance at the burning in his thighs and calves.

"Cerb doesn't seem to mind it." Clay noted, looking at the dog who trotted along, fully in work mode, but still looking as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

"Yea, that's 'cause he's on four legs, an' doesn't have all this other crap weighing him down!" Sonny retorted. Ray only have listened to the guys' remarks behind him, as he was to busy studying the 1IC, and the look on his face. Ray knew Jason better than he knew himself, and he could tell that something was up.

"What's goin' on Jase? You got a look in your eyes." Ray asked, the question soon drawing everyone's attention.

"Not sure yet. Something doesn't feel right… Havoc, is the area still clear?" Jason asked. Ray raised an eyebrow at the man, while instinctively checking his bag for the intel they were recovering. It was of course still in place. Jason was right, something was off. In fact, something had been off for the last few missions. On each one, some detail was missed, and something had gone wrong. Each time, they had been able to quickly correct without any major issues coming from it, but still, it was beginning to feel like there was always a speedbump. No one wanted to admit it though, not after everything they had all been through recently. They were finally whole again, and things had just seemed to be returning to normal, and then just like that, they were slipping again. So instead, they each explained it away in their own minds. Clay chalked it up to getting re-adjusted to active duty, Ray figured they were all just getting used to their bad luck turning around, that stuff was only going slightly wrong because of the negative way they were looking at things recently. Brock had decided the issues were simply mission specific, nothing more. Jason tried to blame himself for each one, per usual, Trent thought they were just getting used to missions that weren't as tough as the ones they faced on deployment, and Sonny just ignored it, not wanting to accept that anything was wrong now that they were back to normal.

Jason waited for a response from Havoc, but none came. He tried again, but no answer. Ray tried, and got the same result. They were on their way to exfil, but still had a way to go. If something happened between now and then, and they didn't have comms? No good. Finally, the earpieces crackled to life once again, but the tone of the voice coming through kicked everybody's senses up to 1000.

"Bravo, do you copy?! Your about to walk right into a camp of insurgents!" Ellis said, praying that the comms had cleared. The comms and ISR had no doubt been jammed by the men in the tent in front of Bravo team. At the words, Jason swiftly motioned for everyone to stop, hardly needing to, as the new information had made everyone stop dead in their tracks.

"Copy Havoc, comms are on the fritz. When the h… when did this happen?! There weren't any camps in the area on the drone sweep 30 minutes ago!" Jason asked, confused. The intel they recovered was time sensitive, meaning that they should already be on the plane's by now, not trying to find a way to avoid a firefight.

"They must've just set up for the night. There's no way around them, and the terrain makes it to dangerous to move the exfil. Plus, the intel doesn't give us time to do it anyway. You'll have to go dark to get through them." Eric said, looking at the ISR and chewing on her lip nervously.

"Well shit. How're we supposed to do that in plain daylight?!" Clay asked, looking at the guys.

"Havoc to one, I hope you guys have a plan by now, because if you guys aren't on those choppers in the next 10 minutes…" Ellis said, interrupting Jason's planning.

"Yea, yea, got it. Alright boys, let's make this quick, and try not to get shot!" Jason said, and turned to lead his team down the rocky turned all their lights off, and started their cautious descent around the side of the camp, doing their best to avoid any loose rocks that would make noise. Their hands were firm on their weapons, trigger fingers ready, because they all knew that getting past the camp without being noticed was nearly impossible. There was no way to create a distraction, because the minute the men left the tent, Bravo team would be hugely outnumbered. They didn't have time to wait for someone to get to over watch, and the terrain was way to rocky for them to army crawl. That left them with the current plan: go as quickly but quietly as possible, and if spotted, hold them off and book it up the mountain to the helos.

They were parallel with the tent when suddenly, they heard a man point and yell. In the next second, over a dozen insurgents were coming out of the door, guns blazing. Sonny's curse words were drowned out by the sound of gunfire. Bravo turned, firing as fast as they could while starting to take off into a dead sprint up the mountain.

"Havoc, this is one, where are those choppers?! If their not here in the next 2 minutes, we're all dead!" Jason yelled as he turned, and pulled the pin out of a smoke grenade, launching it behind him, simultaneously with Trent.

"One mic out Bravo one, should be there any minute. Looks like the insurgents' numbers are going down." Eric answered, watching his team closely. The team continued their sprint up the mountain, dodging bullets as best they could. Jason could see blood on the faces and arms of his men from cuts inflicted by the rocks and branches that were splintering around them and flying up from the spray of bullets. He wouldn't be surprised if the small patch of blood on his arm was from a bullet grazing him. With the sting of debris and the wind from bullets flying past, he couldn't tell which was which anymore. He heard Ray yell a thank god at the sound of helicopter blades getting closer. He moved his head up from where he had been switching between watching the camp behind them and his footing in an effort to avoid twisting an ankle. Finally, the helos touched down, and Jason and his men piled in so that the qrf could unload the gun into the valley behind them as they took off into the air.

**Back in the c130, headed home…**

Ray looked around as everyone took their gear off, silence of another close call hanging over the room. He nodded his thanks and took the wet towel from Trent to clean the cuts on the side of his face and neck. They all looked up as Ellis walked towards them.

"The intel is safely in the hands of the CIA once again, thanks to you guys." Mandy said.

"Yea, a small miracle considering almost walked blindly into a hornets nest, and then had to run through it anyway." Jason said, the anger evident on his face.

"We would have warned you earlier, had the comms not gone out." Mandy relied, sensing the tension in the air, not just from Jason.

"How much earlier? We were just about to cross that hill, and you can't tell me they got those tents up in 30 seconds." Sonny said, holding a cold beer to the thumb that had puffed up in seconds after he jammed it into the rocky ground when he had slipped trying to dodge a bullet.

"Look, we saw them seconds before we notified you guys." Mandy said, realizing she would now be diffusing a bomb that was the six pissed off men standing in front of her. And alone at that. Davis was checking and repacking the gear, weapons, and command setup as she did after every mission, and Eric was on a phone call with the base. It was up to her to calm them all down, or what Eric was about to tell them would likely throw fuel on the fire.

"How Mandy? How?! You have drone footage in front of you, we don't. Did that go out too?" Jason asked, getting closer. She heard the sound of boots behind her, footsteps that had to be that of Blackburn and Davis, drawn in by the commotion. She matched Jason's gaze, breaking only to look over at Ray, who usually would have stepped in by now. His not doing so told her that he was just as angry, but was trying not to voice it.

"Actually, yes, we did. I can show you the feed if you'd like." Ellis replied in a way that would make any normal guy give in, but Jason Hayes was not a normal guy. Especially when his men were in danger.

"I might take you up on that, 'cause I'm sick of somethin' goin' wrong every damn mission! It's like Shaw put a curse on us!" Sonny snapped.

"That's enough. We did what we could. Although, now that you've brought up the little issues here and there this team has been having recently, I can tell you the new schedule for Bravo over the next few weeks..." Eric said, looking at Davis and Mandy, who knew what was coming, and braced themselves for the reactions that were to come.

"Since you all failed to complete the therapy from a few months ago during deployment, the brass and I have been toying with the idea of a new round of trauma counselling. And after the last few missions, I think we can all agree that something is off. The team is off. Don't take that as a shot against you, you have all been through a lot this year, and I think it's time you all sat down with a professional." Eric explained, watching the expressions change.

"Seriously?! The brass? Who actually suggested it, them or you?!" Jason asked, the flush of anger rising in his neck.

"I did." Eric answered.

"Wow. Jus when I thought you were on our side!" Sonny huffed, shaking his head.

"There are no sides here. We made this decision with you best interest in mind." Davis chimed in.

"Best interest. Right." Trent muttered, taking another sip of beer.

"Look, I know you all feel a certain way about counselling, but a lot of higher ups agree that it can help. Think what you want about psychologists and counselors, but these two are the best of the best. They were handpicked by Lisa and I, who know them personally. Before you dismiss them, they both served in the military, one in special ops. You all can hate it as much as you want, but Bravo team is off rotation for the next 2-3 weeks, effective as soon as we touch down." Commander said, watching the men grow stubbornly quiet. With that, he turned and left them to sulk.

**A restaurant somewhere in Virginia Beach... **

Davis picked up her pace slightly, her smile growing as she made eye contact with her friend.

"Hey girl! It's been too long!" Lisa said as she stopped and embraced the women.

"It definitely has! Can't the bad guys take a day off now and then so two friends can catch up?! How've you been?" Ellie Macdonald joked as they sat down.

"Good, really good. You? How's civilian life life treating you?"

"It was an adjustment at first, but since I got my Doctorate, it's been smooth sailing! Athena likes it a lot better too!" Mac said.

"Oh my gosh, she's gotta be huge by now! How old is she?" Davis asked, remembering being introduced to the therapists rottweiler when she got her as a present from her parents and brothers for finishing active duty in the Army.

"Just turned eight!" Mac said, pulling up a picture on her phone of the two of them walking.

"You two look pretty badass together! She's adorable!" Davis fawned over the burly pooch.

"Thanks, she's a real sweetheart though! My niece brought her kitten over the other day, and Athena went full mom-mode on her. Didn't even flinch when the little thing pounced on her, claws and all!" she said.

"So cute. I'd love to get a dog one day, but the job hardly allows me a social life!" Davis said as the waitress came and took their orders.

"Yea, I understand that! Speaking of which, I read your email. Tell me a little more about the three I'm getting." Mac said, changing the topic to the other reason they were there.

"Alright! Your getting Senior Chief Ray Perry, Petty Officer Clay Spencer, and Petty Officer Sonny Quinn. Ray and Clay are the snipers, which is mostly why we gave them to you. Ray is the primary, he's been on Bravo for a while now. He's married to a woman who would give us all a run for our money, with two kids. He's fiercely loyal to her, his faith, and his team. He stepped up big time when the Master Chief's wife died earlier this year, for him and the team. Clay is the youngest on the team. He was drafted in the beginning of last year. He was a perfect fit for the team from the start.' she said.

"Any relation to Ash Spencer?" Mac asked.

"Yea, his son, although from what I've seen and heard from him, they don't have a very good relationship. Anyway, the kid took the brunt of physical trauma this year, with just as much emotional. His training officer, Adam Seiver, died in front of him on a mission while Jason was on leave after his wife's death. Adam sacrificed himself for the guys, and got blown up in front of them by a guy with and s-vest. A few months later, he was severely injured during an attack in Manila while the guys were on deployment. That'll all be in his medical records. And then to top it all off, the guy who helped him through pt and recovery, and was there for him while the team was overseas, committed suicide in his truck. Clay found him."

"Wow…." Ellie said, a somber look on her face. She sure had her work cut out for her.

"And then Sonny. He and Clay are really close, have been since Clay joined. They all took Clay's injury hard, but Sonny probably the hardest. He's a redneck in every way, born and raised in Texas, and if he releases his emotions, it's probably in the way of a bar fight. He'll probably be pretty difficult, but I promise he's got a heart of gold." Davis said finishing up her description.

"Please. You just described all three of my brothers! I look forward to getting to know them, and hopefully bringing them some happiness back!" She said.

"Thank you so much for doing this. Really, It means a lot." Davis said sincerely.

"Of course." Ellie replied. The two sat back as their food arrived, the conversation quickly drifting into areas other than work.

**Across town in a bar…**

"Hey Eric, what can I get you?" John, the bartender and owner asked.

"Whatever's on tap." Blackburn replied.

"Some things don't change, huh?" Eric turned towards the voice and smiled.

"No, I guess they don't. Just like you man! How've you been Warren?" Eric asked.

"Can't complain! How's the wife and kids?" Warren asked after the two old friends shook hands.

"Beautiful as ever. Except Josh. He's just a teenager. Your's?" Eric answered, with a shake of his head at the thought of his unruly son.

"About the same. Cassie's getting into the wild years now, and her sister wants to be just like her, so pray for me!" Warren said, earning a laugh from both Eric and the bartender, who handed them both drinks.

"So I took it from your message that work has been a little rocky recently?" Warren asked after a few minutes.

"Yea, you could say that. The guys have really been put through the wringer this year, and it's getting… I don't know. It isn't getting better though, so that's why we're here." Eric said with and exasperated tone.

"I can imagine. After losing a spouse, two friends, and almost another rookie, I'd be more concerned if Hayes wasn't a little messed up. I've been meaning to stop by the annual cookout to finally put faces to all the names, but life just kept getting in the way." He said. Warren and Eric went way back, sharing a team for a while before they split after climbing the ranks in different directions. Luckily for him, he had kept in touch over the last few years, and had heard many stories

"I understand, believe me. That's why I'm glad your doing this for me. They need it, and I trust you with my life, so it makes the daggers that were shot at me when I told them about this worthwhile." Eric said.

"Of course. Hopefully I can show them the positives after all these negatives." Warren said. Eric nodded, and the two sat for hours longer, catching up.


	2. Chapter 2 Bravo one

**AN:**** Hello everyone! Sorry this chapter took so long to post, summer jobs and preparing for college has been taking all my spare time recently! Other than that, I would like to put a disclaimer that I had a bit more trouble writing Jason in this chapter than I was expecting, so hopefully I was able to stay at least somewhat true to character. As far as other details, I only know so much about what I'm writing about, so please bare with me and remember this is just a story and no matter how close I try to stay with the show, some things will be different! Hopefully you can still enjoy it! Leave a review and let me know what you thought!**

**Bravo One**

**Jason Hayes is by all accounts a stone wall. His 6'1 frame and stiffly-set jaw give him the text-book appearance of Spec Ops Sailor. At first glance, catch him in the wrong mood, and Bravo One looks like he could kill you in about a million different ways before you even knew what happened, mostly because he probably could. But to the properly trained eye, past the brovato and toughness, is years of constantly being drained and refilled psychically, mentally, and emotionally. After months of being drained, it's up to Warren to refill him once again, and maybe teach him how to do it himself in the future.**

Warren glanced up at the clock on his desk, making note of the time before returning his eyes to the folder in front of him. The thick file had kept him occupied for the last few days as he prepared for the days to come. After going over a few more of the lines, he slid the file into his bag, and placed it back onto the chair next to him, knowing that no matter how much the man hated therapy, Hayes would be punctual. The same Navy that had trained him had trained Warren, after all, and to this day, Mills always arrived 10 minutes before any meeting, event, or social call, simply so that he could walk in exactly on time.

Exactly as he had expected, he soon heard a knock on the door.

"Come on in Master Chief." Mills said, standing as the door opened. What Jason didn't know was that from the second he set foot into Warren's office, every move he made was seen and silently noted in the therapists mind. Warren had always been a strong believer that a lot could be determined about someone simply from the body language given off upon first meeting. And so far, Jason was acting pretty much as expected. He stood straight and tall, firm in his handshake and trained in his greeting, obvious that he had been drilled in the proper way to greet. What Warren was waiting for, however, was the moment when Jason would either address him by rank, or mention something about his service. He knew without a doubt that any tier one operator would research what or who he was walking into, just as he was trained to do.

"Good morning, have a seat over here." Warren said, hoping to lighten the tension and put the Seal across from him at ease. Jason was doing his best to look relaxed, and most likely thought he was doing a good job of it, but Mills was trained in reading body language. Hayes was anything but relaxed. His arms were folded across his chest, he was leaning back in the chair, casing the room for any and all information he could use.

"Before we get started, do you have any questions you'd like to ask me? Other than why you have to be here, of course. Hopefully by the time we're done, you'll know the answer to that." Warren said, noting how the corner of Jason's mouth lifted into a smirk.

"Sure. Blackburn said you were special ops, what branch were you with?" Jason asked curiously.

"The Navy! I was a SEAL on Team Eight for six years before I was medically discharged one month out from starting DEVGRU training." Warren answered, pulling up his left pants leg to show a nearly fully prosthetic leg. He watched as Jason scanned the injury, looking away shortly thereafter. Most people had to make a conscious effort not to stare, but not Jason. Warren had expected that, knowing that for all of the man's years of service, he definitely wasn't the first amputee he had met.

"So what, the brass knows that the last guy who was just a normal therapist was a total whif, so they decided to up their game?" Jason said, shifting in his chair. Warren knew he really didn't mean to be disrespectful. In fact, he remembered thinking the same thing the first time he had sat down with a counsellor who was a veteran.

"Actually, it was your Commander who requested me. Look, I'll give it to you straight: we can make these sessions as long or as short as you want, but the only way to get them over with is to go over the events of the last few months. You all took some pretty hard hits, and your higher-ups want this to ease their minds, and I want it to ease yours." Warren said. He could see Jason processing the response, and by the look on his face, even though he wasn't totally on board yet, he had given in a little bit as he slouched further back into the chair. After giving the patient a few minutes to respond, he decided to test the leader with a textbook question. Though he knew how cliche it sounded, he also knew it would be effective in getting an emotional response, good or bad.

"How did it feel to have the guys looking to you after the events in Manila?"

"The events in Manila? You mean where I let my rookie out of my sight for half a second, and the next time we saw him, he was losing blood by the pint? How did it feel?! I'm the team leader, it's up to me to ensure that my men are safe even when they're not." Jason said, crossing his arms over his chest. Warren knew he had struck the right cord at that move. The gesture was an obvious self soothing technique.

"Do you blame yourself for what happened?" Warren asked, even though he already knew the answer. It didn't take much to know the type of man Jason Hayes was. The leader, the protector, and if something went awry, the one to blame, even when he wasn't.

"Blame myself? Humph. I blame myself for the things that are my fault. The times where my team is put in danger because of me? Yea, those times I do, doc. We all do." Jason said.

"Sure, but it seems that more often than not, the things that you claim as your fault, were out of your hands by everyone else's view. Petty Officer Spenser's injuries were caused by a terrorist. And the separation you claim as 'taking you eye off him' was him being a trained and dedicated sailor with a desire to help, and being in the wrong place at the wrong time." Warren said, watching Jason shift in his chair. It was obvious that he had heard that reasoning hundreds of times in the last few months, but now it was up to Mills to make him actually believe it, even if it was only slightly. Slightly would still be progress from where he was now.

"The deaths of Adam Seiver, your wife, and Nate Massey, and Brett Swan also fall into this category." Mills said, testing the waters to see how a later discussion about his wife would likely go, while also looking for the tic that a previous therapist had noted in his file. The man's demeanor instantly changed as Jason looked as though he wanted to fold in on himself. He drew his feet in sharply from their outstretched position and crossed one over the other, and he made a darting glance towards the door. Warren not only knew that he had just ripped the scab off wounds, but he had also gotten him to a place where he would likely shut down if he didn't change the subject.

"I know that in our world, the world of Special Ops, and even just the world of the military, these types of feelings are normal. Sometimes even taught. From day one, we're told to explain away the things that scar us. Explain them away instead of actually dealing with them. Because endings like Brett Swan's are becoming all to common. It's time we start changing that." Warren said.

"So that's what Blackburn decided this is all about? Changing things by starting with us, the team that's been dragged through it all?" Jason asked, trying to stem the flow of memories rushing through his brain.

"Sure, you could say that. But for as much as I know you and you team hate therapy, you should be thanking him for deciding to make a concentrated effort to help the problem now. By the time the people in my life forced me to get help, I had put my fist through a wall because the buddy I was living with changed the combination on my gun safe." Warren said, hoping that he would be able to get the man in front of him to trust him, even just a little, over the next few sessions.

"Preventative measures then. So what did you guys plan for us? How do you plan to _help _us?" Jason said, still not buying the whole therapy thing completely. But Mills was sincere, and Jason had known plenty of men like him, who had turned their lives around. And deep down, he knew he had to try. For the sake of his kids.

"We're gonna start at the beginning. Let's go back to your first serious injury as a SEAL." Warren said, watching closely to see how Hayes would react. He knew that this would be digging deep into emotions that he hadn't faced or even dealt with in a while.

"What's that got to do with everything that's happened the last few months? Isn't that what these meetings are about?" Jason asked, not noticing that he had put a hand on his left shoulder, where underneath it sat a large, round scar with a bunch of dots surrounding it. Mills noticed it.

"I've read the report. I've been on missions like that one. Everything that could go wrong did. Not many team leaders walk away from an op like that without scars, especially the mental kind. And yet, after your hospital recovery and return to active duty, you moved on as if nothing happened. According to you psych eval and the report from your commander, your spirits were better after the incident. So now, even though I have an idea why, I want to take you back there, and maybe in the end, help you see that the things that helped you recover then can do the same now." Warren said, and watched as the look in his patient's eyes changed. He knew he wouldn't have to say much. Just a small reminder of the incident, and Jason was already back there, replaying the op in his mind. Now came the difficult part: getting him to talk about it.

"_TOC this is one, how we lookin'? Any sign of Jabar? Massey, how's that arm?" Jason asked as he and his team crossed through the eerily quiet streets. But then again, it was 3am. _

"_Negative one, we lost him on ISR when they went down. Looks like the last group of hostiles has been cleared, and the new route to exfil is a go." Blackburn said. Nate was too distracted by the reply from their commander to answer the last question._

"_Wait, so we're just supposed to leave without our target?" Jason asked, anger creeping into his voice. They were so close._

"So tell me what went wrong first." Mills said, bringing Jason from his flashback.

"Thought you said you read the report." Jason said combatively.

"Humor me." Warren coaxed, listening to the poorly masked sigh that he received in return.

"Fine. The op went sideways the second we were in country. We were set to do a HAHO jump onto the roof of the target building, but just before we did, we realized we had bad intel. We were no longer sure which house the target was in, but since it was an HVT, I made the call to go ahead with the mission. We dropped in on the roof of what we believed to be the target building, only to find out it wasn't, by walking into a hornet's nest of insurgents. Then it was all downhill from there." Jason said, once again trailing off

"_TOC how many are there?! Do we have a QRF?" Nate yelled over the sound of bullets rattling out of the barrel of his gun._

"_QRF just launched Bravo two. Looks like you guys woke up the town." Davis replied._

"_We're sitting ducks out here Jase! We gotta go!" Nate said._

"_Not until we find Jabar! Three, tell me you got eyes on him!" Jason yelled back._

"_Affirmative one, he's in the house about eight clicks left of us! Just sittin' there watching his men corner us!" Ray answered, zooming his scope in on the man who stood in the window, but just out of the sight line, watching the fight around him._

"_Jase, the mission's blown! We gotta let Ray try to get a shot, and then get out of here before they kill us all!" Sonny said, trying to reason with the boss, even though he knew it was no use at this point. Hayes had that look in his eyes. _

"_No way! If we don't take him alive, thousands could die! Two get up to three on overwatch, the rest of us are going after him!" Jason demanded._

"The report was vague on one part. Was one of your men injured before you were?" Warren asked, waiting until Jason paused for a few seconds. He sat patiently and waited through a longer pause until Hayes answered.

"Yea. A bullet grazed Nate during infil." Jason answered slowly, remembering how much he had hated himself for continuing the mission after they were home.

"_Overwatch? Jase, my leg's fine!" Nate protested._

"_I'm glad. Your still on overwatch. Keep and eye on him Ray." Jason said into the comms while looking Nate in the eyes after glancing down at the bloodstain on his pant leg. Everyone took their positions, following Jason out of the building. _

_They crossed the street towards the new target building, two and three clearing a path for them from the rooftop. Once the guards at the front door were down, they silently entered the building, following Ray's directions to which floor Jabar was on. As they walked up to it, Ray got a sinking feeling in his chest as he moved the scope across the room. He screamed into the comms as he watched the team leader throw open the door, but it was too late. Sonny, Brock and Trent reeled from the thunderous bang that sounded, and watched Jason fly limply through the air and slam against the wall behind him. They opened fire into the room, killing every opposition in sight. At that point, they didn't care about the HVT, or how much he could help the CIA. All they cared about was getting to the man who was trying to sit up, his blood already pooling onto the floor around him._

"_**Jason!**_ _Toc, this Bravo five, where's are QRF!" Trent yelled, sliding on his knees across the floor to his man._

"_Still 5 mikes out due to weather conditions." Blackburn replied, not liking the tone of the typically calm medic's voice._

"_Well tell 'em to kick it in the ass! One just took a buckshot round to shoulder!" Sonny answered angrily as he did a quick scan of the room to make sure it was secure before getting pictures of everything and everyone. Jason squirmed against Trent's hands, his head swimming with fierce pain. _

"_Hey man, I need you to hold still. I need to get a look at the wound, ok?! Brock, hold him down." Trent said, cutting away the shirt sleeve. Diagnosis' flew through his mind as he took note of every detail he saw. Like how the only body part that wasn't twitching was Jason's left hand. Even his fingers weren't moving. _

"_Five this is two, how bad is one?!" Massey's panicked voice interrupted Trent's thoughts._

"_Losing blood fast. It ain't good." Trent answered, trying to pack the wound as best he could. A tournakit wasn't an option because of where the would was, which made everything worse._

"_Well your gonna have to find a way to move him because shit's about to hit the fan! I've got eyes on 15 or more hostiles moving towards your POS. We'll take out as many as we can, but you guys gotta go now!" Nate replied. _

"_Bravo two I need a sitrep!" Blackburn said, entering finally back into the conversation._

"_TOC this is two, One took a large caliber round and it's not good. Where's our exfil!" Nate asked, preparing his weapon for the battle that was about to happen._

"_Copy Bravo two. GRF and exfil is three mikes out. The area is hot, so they won't be able to stay for very long. If your gonna make a move, you guys need to do it now." Davis answered._

"_Copy TOC. You hear that Five? Can you move him?" Nate asked, switching comms channels. _

"_It's gonna be risky, but it doesn't seem like we have much of a choice!" Trent replied. He was preparing to move when he felt Jason's hand on his arm, and looked down._

"_I….I can't….f…." _

"_I know man, I know it hurts, but we gotta get you outta here, ok? I'll give you another morphine." Trent said, pulling out the syringe. _

"_N...no. I can't fe…. Feel my….. A..arm." Jason sputtered, the words stopping Trent in his tracks. _

"We barely made exfil, and Nate passed out on the plane ride home from dehydration and an infection in the wound. Trent rolled his ankle so badly when he was carrying me that we found out later he had a stress fracture. All because I was stubborn. There." Jason said, breaking the silence in the room when he finally realized that the therapist was sitting quietly, waiting for him to return to the present time.

"You yourself had a pretty serious injury. Collar bone broken in three places, broken shoulder blade, two pinched nerves. Despite that and your marriage being on the rocks, you still bounced back. According to the files, this event was soon followed by the Baghdad deployment which brought on a few casualties. And then soon after was Petty Officer Massey's death." Warren said.

"'According to the files' what are you trying to say? That I've been through this all before? That my team is in a slump because it's just the cycle of things, I just need to ride it out or something?!" Jason huffed with annoyance, sitting up straighter in the chair.

"No. What I'm trying to get you to see is that no matter what happens, you and Bravo always bounce back. You had a lot of hard losses these last few months, but you have everything around you that you need to bounce back better this time. How about instead of focusing on the things that you can take the blame for, and the loss, you focus on the things you've still got. Officer Spencer has returned to active duty and is fitting in seamlessly once again. You've mended many relationships, and even though your wife isn't there to help you, you have two gorgeous kids acclimating better than anyone who's been through the death of a parent. Jason, I know that you know that the men around you look to you for how to handle a tough situation. Your their leader. But at the same time, those five men are willing to walk through fire with you. Leaning on them doesn't have to be a sign of weakness. Talk Therapy doesn't make you any less of a man. It can help, but only if you allow it to." Warren said, concluding his questions for the he had written down. He saw Jason look up at the clock, knowing what was about to happen

"Yea well, we'll see about that. Looks like my time is for this, I guess." Jason said after a pause, telling Warren that he had at least taken his words in. He then stood up, waiting to see if there would be any further directions.

"I look forward to our next session." Mills said, standing up. After an awkward but firm handshake, the room was once again silent.


	3. Chapter 3 Bravo Two

_AN: Hey guys, sorry again for such a long time between chapters! I'm finally settled back into college now, so I should have more time to write this story! Also, we're just days away from the Season 3 premiere! Anyways, before we get into this chapter, I just wanted to put a note that there may be certain details in this chapter that aren't 100% accurate to real life. I do my best to make the stories as accurate and believable as possible, but I don't get everything right. We'll call it taking creative liberties as the author. Also, there are descriptions of an injury that some may find graphic. Hopefully, you still enjoy the read, and leave a review with what you think! Thanks again!_

**Bravo Two**

**Ask anyone on or around Bravo Team, and they would all agree the Ray Perry is the rock of the team. He's known for being the level-headed listener of the group, adding his expertise when needed. Not to mention that he's one of the only people on the planet that can grab Jason by the shoulders and snap him back to reality when the team leader is in a tailspin without consequences. The rest of the team may not be religious, but they know that if they ever need something in that area, Ray has them covered. After his near-death experience, they finally have the real Ray back. Even so, Ray knows he won't soon forget this deployment. So maybe, just maybe, therapy could do him some good.**

**/**

_Tiny explosions popped all around him, kicking the dust-up in his eyes as he ran through the desert. He saw a rock that would give him the perfect foothold to climb the hill, but when he put his foot on it, it suddenly disappeared. The earth opened underneath him, and in the next breath, he was free-falling, spinning head over boots until the bright sky faded into the dark tan ground that he hit with a bone-snapping thud…_

Ray sucked in a sharp breath as his eyes shot open. He could feel his pulse racing as he stared at the ceiling pattern and then moved his gaze around the room as his brain slowed and began to separate the dream world from reality. He let out a sigh and groggily reached for his phone to see what time it was. He heard movement from across the room and looked up to see Naima pausing her morning routine to stare at him with the look of concern and understanding all in one in her eyes.

"Another dream?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer. Her husband had had a history of night terrors since the day they were married, but she noticed they were happening more frequently in the months since his deployment.

"Yea. Wasn't as bad this time though." He answered, sitting up in bed.

"You alright?" she asked when she saw his face twist slightly as he pulled himself up against the headboard.

"Yep, just old," he said with a laugh, massaging his shoulder and arm.

"Really? Couldn't tell from the two kids we have!" Naima said with a smirk.

"Yea, well I think it's partially because of the two kids we have!" Ray said jokingly. The two shared a laugh and a kiss as they walked out into the kitchen.

"So, your first session today?" Naima said, testing the subject as she poured them both coffee.

"Mhmm. I uh, I think it'll be good," he said, grabbing a banana from the basket on the counter.

"Wow. I know the incident during deployment changed you, but this is a surprise! How do you think the other guys will take it?" Naima asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Probably not any different than normal. Jase has hated this plan from the start, and the others didn't seem too thrilled about it either." Ray said, thinking about each of his teammates' differing personalities.

"But not you? You seem ok with it." Naima asked curiously. She knew that of the group, Ray was probably the most in touch with his feelings, and that was saying something because she had to twist his arm just to get him to talk about things that happened on missions.

"I don't know. I guess getting trapped in that shed with the women and the version of myself I never want to be again... opened my eyes." Ray answered thoughtfully.

"Well, I'm glad. You guys have been through a lot this year, and it's time you let someone help you sort through it all." Naima said.

"And honestly, they can keep you guys in the sessions as long as they want. I've been getting spoiled with all these nights and mornings of having you home." She said, coming in for another kiss. The two shared breakfast and then got the kids in the car to take them to school and daycare while Naima went to work and Ray went to his meeting.

**Session one…**

Ray opened the door and walked in, scanning the room and taking in information without even knowing he was doing it. It had become the sixth sense since joining the Navy. Before he even said hello or sat down, he already knew that the therapist had three brothers in different branches of the military, from the picture on her wall. Each of them had a uniform with their respective branch, but what gave it away to him was the varying types of camo. He could also tell that she valued her current work, judging from the framed diplomas on her wall.

"Hello, Senior Chief Perry. Please, have a seat." Ellie said, shaking his hand. Ray returned the gesture and soon realized why he had been given to her instead of Dr. Mills. He could feel the callouses on her hand that were similar to ones on his, and ones that Clay was starting to form. She had been a sniper.

His eyes scanned across the desk in front of him as he gets himself comfortable in the shiny leather chair. _Dr. Ellie Macdonald, Trauma therapist. Hmph. that's one way of putting it _Ray thought as he read the nameplate in front of him. Next, his eyes connected with the framed documents on the wall next to a few medals. Finally, his gaze shifted to meet hers. That's when he noticed that the entire time he had been casing the room, she had been watching him do it, probably already forming a diagnosis in her mind. Her look wasn't one of judgment though, but one of deep respect, understanding, and what he assumed was a healthy dose of curiosity. He dropped his eyes quickly, not wanting to stare, but they stopped when he noticed a deep red line of raised skin sticking out from the collar of her blouse, and twisting up the side of her neck.

"Close quarters fighting in Sudan. The guy had an unfair advantage after my rifle jammed. Wasn't as bad as it looks though, I'm sure you know how crazy head wounds bleed!" Mac said, still following the Sailor's eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" Ray stuttered.

"Nah, it's fine! I've kinda come to like the ugly thing. Besides, everyone has some, right? Especially in our line of work." she answered with ease that always seemed to settle her patients. It worked, even if only slightly, as she watched the SEAL relax his posture just a little.

"Yea, that is why I'm here, I guess," Ray answered.

"Yes, it is. From my understanding, you and your team have taken quite a few hits lately," she said, trying to lead him without letting him know she was doing it.

"You could say that…" Ray replied, catching onto her tactics pretty quickly. This wasn't his first visit to a therapist, and it probably wouldn't be his last.

"Alright, I'm gonna shoot you straight. I'm a vet myself. I've sat on the other side of this desk my fair share of times, and I hated it just as much as I can tell you do. The difference here is that I've been read in on what happened to Bravo team, the good, the bad, and the worse than ugly, and I've seen other teams go through similar stuff, and fall apart. Lt. Commander Blackburn, Dr. Mills and I are here to do everything in our power to make sure that doesn't happen. Does that sound good?" Mac said with just the right mix of sternness and empathy in her voice.

"It does," Ray answered, surprised by how much he could tell she did care.

"Good. Why don't we start with you telling me a little bit about your relationship with Master Chief Hayes?" She asked.

"Hmph. Jase and I? We've had our ups and downs, but we're brothers. Simple as that." Ray replied matter of factly.

"So the events in the bar in Manila didn't affect that relationship?" she asked, watching the look on the man's face changed instantly as his mind replayed the events. But she was soon surprised to see a look of understanding and forgiveness wash over his face, not contempt, which she was expecting. Davis had told her that Officer Perry was probably the most open of the group, or at the very least, the one who knew when to take responsibility for his actions.

"Maybe for a few days, yea. But that all flipped when that man marched his ass all over creation to save me. The truth of it all, he took a few blows these last few months, some really bad ones too. All that stuff building up was from a bunch of crap, but also from me knowing there wasn't much of anything I could do for him. Hayes has saved my life a few times, probably a few more I ain't even aware of, but what matters is that he was willing to do it. Even after I wanted to break his nose." Ray answered after a sigh.

"It sounds like this has happened before. If there's one thing I miss most from active duty is knowing without a doubt that your team's got you. What would you say was the most significant time Hayes showed up for you?" She asked, glancing at a framed picture on her desk.

"Well, I guess I can't give Jason all the credit. The rest of the boys have done their share of dragging me out of some crappy situations." Ray said, unconsciously flexing his right shoulder and bicep.

"I can tell you've got a specific time in mind. Tell me about it." Mac said, recognizing the far-away look on the sailor's faces. Ray sighed again and shook his head, but not in reluctance.

"We were in Africa, going after HVT in the middle of nowhere…" Ray started, and Ellie settled into her chair, ready for the movie to begin in her mind.

"_One to Two, how we look from up there?" Ray heard Jason's voice in his ear as he scanned the sand-covered mountains with his scope, watching his team tear the group of huts that had once served as the rebels' headquarters to pieces. They were packing the intel into their bags while stepping around and over the bodies of the group that they had eliminated in mere minutes. _

"_Your laggin' a little there Spense! Too much time with your girl before we left?" Ray teased. _

"_Yea, well at least I'm not puking like Sonny during the last mission!" Clay shot back, causing laughter to sound over the radios._

"_Hey! It ain't my fault the chef didn't know how to properly cook chicken!" Sonny said defensively, causing more laughter. Ray was about to respond after another sweep of the area but was instantly switched back into work mode when his eyes landed on a vehicle coming down the dirt road at an alarming pace._

"_Bravo One this is Two, you guys better get finished up 'cause your about to get company! I see two truckloads full of fighting aged males coming towards your head on!" Ray yelled, loading a string of bullets into his gun. _

"_Copy two, we're headed to exfil. Havoc, this is one. We're passing Balboa, but it appears we're about to be contacted! Where's exfil?" Jason asked._

"_Copy that One, exfil is ready and waiting." Blackburn replied._

"_Two to One, you guys move, I'll try to cut them off before they get to you!" Ray said, Jason, replied, and was instantly met with the sound of gunfire coming from Ray's nest on the hill. The team began to move, and it seemed like all would go smoothly, until Jason heard an ever-familiar woosh sound of a missile launcher, and looked up just in time to watch the rocket flying towards Ray. _

"_Ray! RPG! Move!" Jason screamed. Ray heard the warning and rolled as quickly as he could, only to soon feel the ground vibrate beneath him as fire erupted around him, as well as in his veins in the form of searing pain. _

_By some miracle - although it sure didn't feel like one - Ray never lost consciousness. He instinctively grabbed for his weapon and cased the area surrounding him for the enemy that he was sure would be right on top of him by now. To his surprise, the area was quiet. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision and get his ears to stop ringing all at once. Reluctantly, he looked down at his body, wanting to know why it felt like his arm had been ripped off. The thought made bile rise in his throat. Oh, God. It better still be there. He thought as he turned his head to the side slowly. It was still attached, but the sigh of relief he was expecting never came. His upper arm was shredded, flesh hanging freely from his mangled limb. He could see the bone in a few different places, along with pieces of rocks, sticks, and metal from the rocket that had embedded themselves in his arm. What added to the shock was that the bone miraculously didn't seem to be broken. The same couldn't be said for his wrist and thumb, the latter of which was bent in such an unnatural way he wasn't sure if it could even be fixed. The sight of his battered arm mixed with the smell of burning fabric and blood had his stomach doing flips. He turned his head to the side as quickly as he could and heaved into the sand. When he finally caught his breath, he heard his name being called frantically over the radio, and suddenly his mind snapped out of the pain-filled haze it had fallen into. His team was still trapped down there, fighting off the enemy with one less person and no overwatch. He pulled his arm tight to his chest and crawled back to what was left of his sniper's nest. He shakily set up his rifle once again, pushing the thought out of his mind of how hard shooting would be with his newly acquired injury. _

"_Dammit Ray, answer me!" Jason yelled. He tried to push away the thoughts that were raging through his mind right now._

"_O…...ne... This is…...t..two. How c..copy?" Ray's strained voice finally reached the team's ears, and they all suddenly felt as though they could breathe again. _

"_Good copy two. Damn you scared us! Are you hurt?" Jason asked, firing off a few more rounds as the team pushed further into the enemy on their slow-moving trek to exfil. _

"_Th...the arms… pretty messed up, but I'm ok. I'll cover you guys so you can get to exfil." Ray said, wadding up his glove and sticking it in his mouth so that his inevitable scream of pain that would come when he forced his wrist to grip the rifle wouldn't be heard by his team. Little did he know, Trent was already listening to his every raspy breath through the comms, and taking notes. That man had some of the sharpest senses of the group. _

"_Can you tell anything Trent?" Jason asked, taking a finger off the comms and giving the team medic a look, even though he knew the question was crazy._

"_I can tell he's in bad shape, but that's obvious. He said it's his arm, but I don't like the way his breathing sounds. If it's anything like the other blast wounds I've seen, he's losing a ton of blood right now." Trent said, anxiety gripping him because he wasn't there next to his brother and instead had to listen to the poorly masked pain in his voice. Jason shook his head, trying to clear it so he could devise a plan to save his best friend. Sure, he wanted mission success, but that stopped being a top priority the second he watched that rocket hit the hill where Ray was. _

"_Alright Ray, you start moving to exfil. We've cut the numbers down pretty well and they think they got you, so you should be able to move without opposition. We'll finish here and be right behind you. Four and Six are coming to get you, and then the rest of us will be right behind." Jason said. The others nodded their understanding._

"_No, Ja….Jase, I'm f….fine. I'll help take th… r...res… out 'n the...n m...ve.." Ray said, trying to protest, getting confused and angry when his words started to run together. His vision was getting blurry once again, and his head was starting to spin. He fought it as best as he could, telling himself they didn't have time for this. _

"_He's getting worse. Trent, Clay, find him __**now. **__We'll cover you. Three, Five, let's clear these guys out!" Jason yelled, and everyone did as they were told._

_As Trent and Clay made their way through the desert, Trent raised Ray on comms, praying he would answer._

"_Two this is Four, can you hear me?" Trent asked, trying to keep the fear out of his voice._

"_T...Trent?" came the reply. The medic looked at Clay and cursed. The voice on the other end was weak and raspy. Ray was going into shock. _

"_Yea. Yea it's me. Hey, listen, I need you to stay awake, ok? We're on our way. Clay's here, he's gonna help me find your nest, ok?" Trent said, trying to be reassuring as he and Spenser picked up the pace. _

"_Mhmm…"_

"_Keep talking to me, ok?" Trent begged. _

"_Over here! I see him!" Trent snapped his head in Clay's direction just in time to see the kid take a hard left and sprint towards a crater-sized hole in the sand just off in the distance. He followed as fast as he could, and they were soon both kneeling beside their brother. Clay repeated his call that they had found him as Trent had already begun to work. In the next minutes, Ray was lifted by Trent, and with Clay in the lead, they raced to exfil. _

"So they got you outta there just in time. Sounds like your injuries were pretty serious. Serious enough to need a blood transfusion during the plane ride from one of your teammates?" Mac said finally, after giving Ray a few minutes of quiet when he paused the story. She could tell it was getting to the parts that he had trouble talking about from the way his body language had shifted, taking with it the contented look on his face from earlier. He was visibly uncomfortable.

"Yea. Ya know, I guess you could say the universe planned for Jase and me to get stuck together." Ray said with a small smile.

"How so?" She asked, slightly more confused this time when she watched him start to drift off into his thoughts once again. Luckily for her, he decided to bring her along for the ride.

"_How is he?" _

"_Same as he was when you asked me two seconds ago," Trent replied, trying to hide his annoyance. He knew that the team leader wasn't meaning to be annoying, but was simply panicking beyond belief at the sight in front of them. They all were, and if any of them said they weren't - internally at least - they'd be lying through their teeth. The floor of the chopper was already covered with small piles of blood-soaked bandages and packaging for countless types of medical supplies. Ray had lost way too much blood, and even though he had finally stopped bleeding, he now had a new problem. Trent had sewed the wounds as best he could and bandaged them tightly, but now the lack of blood in Ray's body was threatening to send him into cardiac arrest. _

"_I don't like that look Trent, what is it?" Sonny asked, noticing the worry first. All eyes suddenly snapped to him, waiting for his answer._

"_He needs a transfusion, but my med bag caught a few bullets for me. It popped the blood bag. I don't have anything to give him." Trent said, feeling the air leave the cabin. _

"_That doesn't matter. I'll donate." Jason said, without a breath of hesitation._

"_What?" Trent asked, surprised by the new information. He had been told everyone's blood type at one point a long time ago, but he couldn't remember them right now. _

"_I'll donate! Him and I, we're the same blood type. You can do it right?" Jason asked, already producing his arm._

"_Yea I can, but just hold on a second! How do you know you guys are the same? Are you positive? Because If I give already weak system blood that doesn't go with it, it could kill him!" Trent said, not needing to remind everyone of the seriousness of the situation._

"_A couple of years ago our families donated blood together when the base had a shortage. Emma wanted to do it but she was terrified of needles. We wanted to help her get over it, and we found out we both had the same type. Now come on, let's go!" Jason explained as quickly with a little detail as possible. Trent nodded, and soon, Jason was watching his blood flow through the tube into his brother's lifeless body. _

"_His stats are coming up," Trent reported happily._

"So it's like I said. Jase and I, we get in each other's faces, right now and then, but we're brothers." Ray said, finishing his story. He shifted in his seat, silence hanging in the air. Ellie could tell by the look on his face that that wasn't the end of the story. She could hear his foot tapping nervously only the floor, and how he kept running his hands through his beard. She let the silence hang for a little while longer, allowing him to volunteer the information, even though she had a feeling it wouldn't be that easy. After a few more minutes, she spoke up.

"So what happened when they got you back to the base? Did they bring you back stateside?" she asked, even though she knew the answer. She had read the file and knew exactly the kind of trauma he had been through.

"Uh… no, actually. They… there was an incident that day and all the flights out of the base were grounded right after we came back. They took me for… for surgery in the makeshift base hospital." Ray answered slowly, his gaze darting randomly around the room as he tried to focus and keep himself grounded, fighting against the memories trying to force their way back into his mind. He had shoved them down so far he almost forgot they existed. Almost.

"So they did a surgery that extensive with just a few supplies they had? How'd it go?" she asked, leading him once again, but this time he was none the wiser, due to the fear that she could tell was running through him with the subject. She again waited a few minutes for a response but got none. She said his name calmly, knowing that he was likely drifting back into his thought, and wanting to bring him out before he went too deep. But it was no use. He was already back there, laying on that cold operating table.

"_Removing the last of the debris now." _

"_Alright, now for the hard part. Do we have the grafts ready?" Ray heard the voices around him, but couldn't figure out where they were coming from. They didn't sound like any of his teammates. Then they got louder and closer. There was an odd beeping sound accompanying them now. _

"_Doc, his heart rate is rising. What's going on?" _

_Ray felt more confusion crashing over him as he started to feel something poking him… and it hurt. Only a little at first, but it was starting to get worse. _

"_Did I just see his hand twitch?! Connor what the holy h…. What is going on?!" The panic in the surgeon's voice did __not_ _help the matching emotion in Ray's mind. His twitch turned to a shake when suddenly, his eyes opened. Why were his eyes open?! And what was in his throat?! Why was it so bright in there?! And why did his entire right side feel numb?!_

"_Dr. Connor, why is he awake!?" the surgeon asked frantically, watching the monitors spike. _

"_I… I guess he didn't get enough anesthesia!" the doctor answered as he scrambled to fix the problem while everyone made sure to stay out of the patient's line of sight, to not scare him any further._

"_Well give him more dammit! If he moves that arm, we're gonna have some major issues!"_

"_It's in, it's in! He should be out again any s….."_

"Chief Perry? Where are you?"

"Huh?"

"You're ok. I need you to come back, ok?" Ellie said in a low, soothing voice as she coaxed her patient slowly back to the present time. After about another minute, he sighed deeply and ran a hand over his face.

"Waking up during surgery can be incredibly traumatic, especially when coupled with the trauma of a severe injury. What makes it worse is not facing it. Did they have you speak with someone about it?" she asked.

"Uh… no. No. They finished the surgery and uh, explained what happened afterward. Apparently they got the dosage wrong." Ray answered.

"The only person I ever talked to about it was Jason. I didn't even tell my wife because, by the time they got me back stateside, I had worked so hard at pushing it out of my mind that I made myself think of anything else. I guess that's just another thing I've lied to my wife and the team about." Ray said, dropping his eyes to the floor.

"Ray, listen to me. Sailors and Soldiers alike, it's in our nature to blame ourselves for everything that goes wrong. It becomes a habit. The only way to break the habit is to replace it with a new one. A productive one. Maybe it's Jason, or your wife, or your priest, or maybe even someone in my line of work, but whoever it is, you need a confidant. It's going to take work, and it won't be easy at first, believe me, but it'll help. From what I've heard from Lisa, you're the backbone of Bravo. The rock. Even a rock needs something firm to sit on. Maybe my analogy is weird, but do you understand what I'm saying?" Ellie asked, watching as he slowly made eye contact with her once again, and she could tell that he was indeed fully taking in what she was saying to him. He soon nodded.

"Good," she replied.

**Hours later, back at the Perry residence…**

Naima closed the door to the kids' bedroom and walked across the living room to snuggle next to her husband on the couch. She started to say something but stopped when she could see that he was formulating something. He had been mostly quiet since his appointment earlier that day, deep in thought, and she was almost dying of curiosity. But even so, she knew Ray better than anyone, and she knew that when he got like this, it was best to let him start the conversation. And so she waited. After a few more minutes, he spoke.

"The session helped me realize something today." Ray said slowly.

"Yea, what's that?" Naima asked, an edge of concern in her voice.

"That even though being a sailor has given me my share of scars, it's also given me some of the deepest relationships known to man." he said.

"The best, of course, is ours." He said, looking into her eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Bravo Three**

**Sonny Quinn. Bravo's knuckle dragger. The first man to step up in a tight spot and never back down from a challenge, his fierce loyalty to his team and country, and his seemingly fearless nature is what made him perfect material for the Navy. But behind all that toughness and bravado lies years of trauma that screams to be let out. Emotions are complicated, which is the exact opposite of what Sonny likes, so he avoids them. Which is exactly why he's been silently dreading his turn with Dr. Macdonald.**

Sonny rolled his eyes in annoyance when he saw the time on his watch. As much as this leave had been driving him stir crazy and he was itching to get out of the house, sitting in some stuffy room with a shrink was the exact opposite of how he wanted to spend his day. He had more than once seriously considered skipping it, but he knew Blackburn would see through any lie he gave to try to excuse himself from it. So instead, he ambled through his small kitchen into his bedroom to grab the first shirt his drawer offered him. He couldn't quite place what it was, but something made him stop in front of the mirror in his bathroom. He had heard from Jason and Ray that the mandatory meetings created by the brass seemed to have a theme to them: scars. He looked at the reflection of his abdomen in the mirror, and staring back at him was the long, jagged scar that started just below his sternum, and curved down under his top row of abs. The scar wasn't new, which meant that this wasn't the first time that he had looked at it. As he followed its path with his eyes, an ever-familiar thought crept back into his mind. A thought that he had stopped trying to figure out a long time ago, and pushed away. But this time, he let it sit in his mind for a little while longer. No matter how long he looked at the scar, he couldn't remember how he had gotten it. He racked his brain for a few more minutes, and then gave up and pulled the shirt over his head. After a quick lunch - as much as he hated this, a SEAL was never late - he pulled on his hat, let out a reluctant sigh, and pulled the door shut behind him.

**Across town…**

Clay set his drink back down on the bar, only half watching the news while his mind wandered. Sure, he knew these therapy sessions were necessary after everything the team had been through, but being at home was starting to drive him nuts.

"Ya know, as much as I love this bar, it's starting to get real old." Brock said as he walked up to join Clay.

"I guess we're all thinking the same thing then." Clay answered.

"Yea, but I bet ol' Sonny boy would rather be here than where he's headed right now!" Jason chimed in from the other side of Spenser.

"Hmph. I feel bad for the doctor!" Brock said.

"So I haven't had my turn yet. Is it true that the meeting are to talk about scars?" Brock asked after ordering a drink.

"Yea." Jason replied, trailing off.

"Uh oh." Clay scanned his teammates faces after hearing the tone in their voice.

"I mean I know Sonny hates therapy, but why does that make it worse? Is it because of that scar on his stomach?" Clay asked. As if his already silent teammates could get any quieter, at these words, they did. Finally, Jason saw the confusion on the kids face, and sighed.

"It's a… long story. One that he should probably tell you. If he remembers it." Jason said. This only served to make Clay even more confused, but from the look on the team leader's face, he decided to drop it. For now.

**At the office… **

"Petty Officer Quinn?" Sonny looked towards the sound of his name, although he always felt a little weird being called by his rank. It always made him feel like he was about to get in trouble. He stood and walked towards the receptionist.

"That's me!" he said, tipping his hat at the brunette behind the counter.

"Dr. MacDonald is ready for you." she said. He thanked her, and then walked in.

Just like the others, Sonny immediately scanned the room before shaking the doctor's hand and taking his seat. He also quickly noticed that she was pretty. Blonde hair pulled back into a loose ponytail that allowed the shorter hairs to fall around her face, framing her brown eyes and smile. Ellie laughed inwardly at the way the sailor had sauntered in the room. Davis really wasn't kidding when she had warned her that he was a charmer. She could also tell by the way he walked that he definitely wasn't lacking any self-esteem.

"Nice to meet you Petty Officer." Ellie said, watching him get comfortable in the chair.

"Please, call me Sonny. I don't like all that formal stuff too much." He replied. _She also wasn't kidding about how thick his accent is! _Mac thought to herself.

"Alright then Sonny, I'm Dr. Ellie MacDonald. How are you today?" she asked.

"Just peachy. Still not really sure why I gotta be here, but when the brass says jump, we say how high." Sonny quipped.

"Sounds about right. So I take it that you're itching to get back out into the field?"

"I ain't been this bored since the last time I landed myself in a holding cell for the weekend." Sonny retorted.

"That bad huh? It takes a special type of person to choose a war zone over a peaceful week at home. No judgment though, it took me a while to readjust too after I came home." She said, making small talk so that she could get a feel for how the meeting would likely go. And she already had a sneaking suspicion that it likely wouldn't last long.

"You served?" Sonny asked, suddenly sitting up straighter.

"I did. I was a sniper for a few years until some family issues came up, and I realized that the Army wasn't the only place I could use my skills." Ellie replied, watching closely to gauge how her patient would react.

"So that's why we got assigned to new therapists. You two are vets. They're really tryin' everything." Sonny said, muttering the last under his breath and assuming that she hadn't heard him. Of course, she had.

"That's perfect then. You guys know exactly what I've been through, huh? You've got me all figured out, right?" Sonny said, folding his arms across his chest.

"No. Everyone's experiences in the military are different. But I do know trauma, and I know when other people have seen it too. And I am simply here to help as much as I can." she said, noticing how quickly he had become combative. She knew from his file that he had seen more than his fair share of trauma, but what she was most concerned about was the trauma that she knew he couldn't remember.

"Yea? Tell me Doc, what kind of trauma do I have? In your expert opinion." Sonny said, tilting his head. She paused for a moment, trying to think of the best way to approach the situation. She knew it was delicate, and that there was likely no good outcome at first. After another minute or so of thought, she decided to just go directly at it - cautiously, of course - just as she could tell that the man in front of her did everything else in his life.

"Have you ever heard of repressed memories?" she asked with a calm, yet firm tone.

"I ain't heard of any of your mind tricks." Sonny said, shifting his weight in the chair.

"A repressed memory is what happens when an event is so traumatic and deeply painful that a person's unconscious forces the memory so deep into the mind that the event doesn't come up during daily life. It is the brain's way of protecting itself from the trauma so that the individual can go on living, with little to no recollection of the event." Ellie explained. She watched as Sonny's face fought to hold the look of disgust, but his eyes showed something different. Fear and confusion.

"So that's what you think is wrong with my brain? What gave you that idea?" Sonny asked with an edge in his voice, but Ellie could tell whether he wanted to admit it or not, the second question was genuine.

"I'm sure you heard from your teammates that their meetings have been talking about their scars, and the mental trauma they left behind. I've read your file, and it says that you have a pretty large scar on your abdomen. Do you remember how you got it?" Ellie asked, pushing forward carefully. The next few minutes would be crucial to any future meetings.

She watched as Sonny fell silent. She could see that he was searching his brain for both a way out of this situation, but also an answer to the question.

"Uh… no." came the slow, wavering reply.

"Sonny, I can help you remember, but it won't be pleasant." she warned.

"I might as well get my money's worth." Ellie nodded her reply.

"I want you to tell me exactly what comes to your mind when you hear the words Iraq, 2016," she said. She watched as his expression changed. Sonny took a deep breath, blinking a few times in an effort to slow the images that were flashing into his mind.

"That… that was deployment. Before Nate died. We were lookin' for an HVT. That's… all I got." he replied.

"That's good. What about when you hear the name, Amadi Shahid?" Ellie asked. Suddenly, thoughts began flooding Sonny's mind. His stomach started to sting, and his head spun. There were lights, faces, the sound of some sort of electrical current making a popping noise, and blood. There was blood everywhere. Voices were taunting him, then there was the glistening of metal in his eye. "_Dammit! Sonny! Bravo One I have Bravo Four. It's…. It's really bad! Sonny, come on man, stay with me! Stay with me. Sonny?! _

"Sonny? I need you to talk to me, what do you see?" Ellie asked, trying to pull the man from his thoughts. She could tell by the way he was staring off into space, his knuckles white on the arms of the chair, that whatever was going on in his head wasn't good.

"No… no, I'm done talk… I'm done." Sonny said, trying to hide the panic in his voice as he abruptly stood and made a beeline for the door. He heard MacDonald calling after him as he made his hasty exit, but her voice was muffled by the thoughts and noises spinning in his head.

**At the nearest bar…**

Sonny squeezed his eyes shut for a second and shook his head before grabbing the shot glass in front of him. He downed the drink, sighing as the alcohol burned down his throat and he added the glass to the pile in front of him. He knew he'd probably been here for a few hours, and that he hadn't left that spot in all that time. His vision had already started to blur, but it wasn't strong enough to blur the images that were racing through his mind.

"Hey Sonny, you sure you don't wanna eat something? You gotta balance out all that booze in your system brother!" The bartender said, walking over to him. He had seen the man drunk before, but not like this.

"Nah mann…. I's fine…." Sonny stammered.

"Look, I know you, and I know that's a lie. You're going on four hours man. Either you call someone to come get you, or I will." the bartender replied.

"Whatshever…" Sonny snapped, nearly breaking the glass as he slammed it onto the counter. After a few more minutes, the bartender looked back over and saw Sonny shakily stand up from the barstool, and try to take a few steps. He started to look away until he saw Sonny shove a hand in his pocket and pull out his keys. He quickly walked out from behind the bar and walked over to Sonny, preparing for what he knew would likely be a fight.

"Hey, not a good idea man. I said to call someone." he said.

"Get outta ma face!" Sonny yelled, giving the man a shove, and effectively dropping his keys in the process. The bartender grabbed them and stood back up just in time to catch Sonny before he face-planted after tripping over the leg of a nearby chair. He sat him down in the closest booth and made sure he was blocking the door. Not wanting to leave the man to get his own phone, he pulled Sonny's out of his hand and dialed the first one he knew.

**On base…**

"Hey Trent, throw me one of those clothes," Clay said, catching the rag soon after. The team, minus Sonny, of course, was in the tack room cleaning their weapons and gear and getting it ready for another training exercise called for by Blackburn.

"Thank god for Blackburn. As much as I hate training exercises, I'd much rather do that than just sit on my hands and wait for the shrinks to clear us for duty!" Brock said.

"Amen to that! He knows we're all climbing the walls, and he's probably just scared we'll break something!" Ray chimed in.

"Yea, especially Sonny. Wonder how his session went. Or how short it was." Clay quipped.

"Speak of the devil!" Trent said after feeling his phone buzz in his pocket and pulling it out to see the caller ID.

"Hey man! Were…. Dale? What's wrong? Keep him there, I'll be there in 10 tops." Trent said. Everyone looked up as they heard Trent's voice change, and at the name of the bartender, they had all befriended.

"Trent, what's going on?" Jason asked as soon as the phone call ended.  
"Sonny's in bad shape. Causing problems at the bar, and just tried to drive away. I gotta go get him. Clay, your up. You know as well as I do this is a two-man job." Trent said. Clay nodded silently and followed him out of the room after promising to keep the rest of them updated, even though they'd all been there before.

**Later… **

Clay tightened his grip on the Texan's belt loop as he and Trent steered him up the stairs to his apartment. He waited impatiently as Trent unlocked the door and led them inside. Sonny was starting to get heavy. Within seconds of the three of them getting into the apartment, Sonny flung himself towards the kitchen sink and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach. Clay and Trent made eye contact from across the room, each one's look mirroring the other's.

"Alright, time to sleep it off." Trent said after Sonny finished washing his mouth out. He grabbed the man by the shoulders and steered him down the hall, leaving Clay to clean up the mess left behind.

A few minutes later, Trent joined Clay in the living room.

"So… what's all this about? I mean I know the sessions are about scars and the way Jase and Brock were talking about it earlier it seemed like they were hiding something. I don't know that it was from me, they were just being really vague. Is that why he's like this?" Clay asked. Trent sighed.

"Yea. I called Davis on the way over, she gave me the number of the therapist. It took some convincing because of the whole doctor-patient confidentiality thing, but she told me about the meeting. It also helped because I uh… I was there when his injury happened. It was a few years ago, before your time which is why you're confused. According to the therapist, he repressed the memory, which makes sense. It was one of the worst injuries I've ever seen." Trent said as he started to slip into his thoughts.

"We all figured if he hadn't already that he'd tell you one day, but I guess what the doctor said explains why he hasn't. And seeing the state he's in right now, he likely won't for a little while, so I guess it's up to me. We were on deployment in Iraq a few years ago. One of our main objectives was to locate and eliminate an arms dealer named Amadi Shahid. We were on our way to his compound one day, and we got ambushed. Sonny got put on overwatch by pure chance. They found his position and grabbed him while the rest of us were in the middle of a firefight. They had him for about two weeks when we finally got into the compound again…"

"_TOC, this is One, we're passing Romeo," Jason said as they snuck through the front gates._

"_Good copy one, making entrance. Comms might be a little spotty, just keep us updated as much as possible. Get our man back." Blackburn answered trading skeptical but hopeful looks with the two other members of the command center. _

"_Yes, sir." Jason replied. _

"_Alright, you know our only option is to split up. This team is the only people getting out of this building alive, understood?" Jason said. Each man nodded, and even though they hated separating, they did it anyway. They had spent the last few days studying the layout of the building, so they each knew where they needed to go. _

_Trent moved silently down the stairs, using only his nods to show him the way through the dark hallways. _

"_This is Five. No joy on the third floor." Brock radioed in. _

"_Do another sweep. We can't risk missing anything." Jason answered. A few minutes later, the same calls came from the rest of the team. No joy. No one had found their brother. That left one person. Trent kept moving slowly down the hall, stopping short when he heard voices in the distance. They were speaking a different language._

"_Bravo One this is four. I'm hearing what sounds like two… three voices down the hall. I'm approaching the room now. Two guards out in front of the door. This has to be where they're holding him!" Trent said, feeling his heart start to pound. _

"_Copy Four, we're headed your way. Wait for us." Jason said. Just as Trent was about to reply, a blood-curdling scream reverberated through the walls, coming from inside the room. That's Sonny! Trent thought as he felt his body already starting to move towards the room._

"_There's no time! I can hear him in there Jase!" Trent said as he moved closer towards the room. _

"_Trent! Shit! All Bravo elements, get to the basement now!" Jason yelled. By the time Jason's voice sounded over the comms, Trent had already taken out the guards by the door and set a breaching charge. The door blew off the hinges, and once the dust settled, he took stock of the sight in front of him. Sonny was there, in front of him, his limp body being held up by the HVT. _

"_Let him go, Shahid. We've cleared the building. Your men are dead. You've got no way out." Trent said, all the while moving further into the room in an effort to get a clear shot on the man holding a machete to Sonny's chest. _

"_Then what have I got to lose? Nothing. It's up to you now who dies, me, or your friend." Shahid said, and Trent watched in horror as he stuck the blade into the middle of Sonny's chest, just below his sternum, and pulled it down towards his left hip. The scream that ripped through Sonny was stopped by the gurgling of the blood already in his mouth. Fear tore through Trent's being as the target drug towards a door in the back of the room dropped him on the hard ground, and took off into another dark hallway. _

"_All Bravo elements, Shahid is on the move towards the east side of the building! I have Bravo three but… its….. Bad. Real bad." Trent said as he fell to his knees next to his teammate and ripped open his med bag. The sight in front of him stopped his breath. Beneath the blood and torn flesh, a light pink stared back at him. He was staring at Sonny's intestines. _

_After a moment of shock, Trent snapped back to reality and the task in front of him. He wasn't a very religious man, not like Ray, but he thanked God anyway when he looked up and saw that Sonny was somehow still conscious even though he knew it definitely wouldn't last. _

"_Stay with me, Sonny. I'm gonna get you out of here, alright! Hang on! Stay with me!" He pleaded. _

"_One, this is two. Target eliminated. Shahid's dead." Nate said. It would've been a joyous call, had it not been for the fact that they were all racing to get downstairs to their fallen brother. They all seemed to reach the room at once, skidding to a stop when they saw the scene that greeted them._

"_Holy m…" Jason said, before turning away to empty his stomach onto the floor. Nate stepped up while Jason recovered. _

"_What's happening? Is he alive?" Massey asked._

"_Shahid cut him with a machete. Partial evisceration. I'm sure there are other things, but there're obviously more important things right now. I can't… I can't do much for him right now other than bandage it and get him out of here. If he doesn't get to an OR within the hour, he's gonna bleed out. Where's exfil?!" Trent said as he taped a large bandage over the wound and dressed it the best he knew how to get him ready for exfil. _

Silence hung over the room like a thick, heavy cloud as Clay let the story sink in. He didn't even know what to say. He knew that Sonny had been through a lot with Danny and everything, and he had been curious about the scar for a while, but this was not what he had expected.

**The next day…**

Sonny yawned and slowly opened his eyes, groaning and quickly slamming them shut again when he was swiftly met with a fierce pounding behind his eyes. He gave it a few minutes to subside a little and rolled himself out of bed. As he slowly wobbled out into the kitchen for some water, he stopped when a note on the counter caught his eye.

_Got you home from the bar last night. I guess the session didn't go very well. Told Clay about everything, and talked to Dr. MacDonald. She was really worried, you should call and set up another appointment. I know it was really rough, and I can answer your questions, but I can only help you so much. Whatever you decide, you know we've got you. _

_Anyway, by the looks of things last night, you'll be nursing a nasty hangover for a while. Drink this, the boys and I'll be over in a few hours with food - something really greasy. Take some time to get your head on straight again. Oh, and you might wanna apologize to Dale._

_Trent_

Sonny sighed and picked the Gatorade up off the counter and cracked it open while he thought over what he could remember of the day before. After a shower to remove the stench of the night of being drunk out of his wits from his body, he flopped down onto his couch and pulled the phone out of his pocket. He dialed the number Trent had left on a separate note for him.

"Hello, this is the Mills Therapy Practice, Alli speaking. How can I help you today?"

"Uh….yea. Hi. I'm uh, I'm calling to speak with Dr. MacDonald?" Sonny stuttered at first, but then pulled himself together.

"Ok, I can patch you through. What is your name sir?" the receptionist asked.

"Sonny Quinn," he answered. The woman thanked him, and after a minute or two of holding music, he heard the phone being picked up.

"This is Dr. MacDonald speaking, what can I do for you today?" the familiar voice sounded on the other end.

"Uh..um… Hey. I uh, sorry about running out yesterday, I didn't mean to waste your time… I just…" Sonny said, trying to figure out how to explain himself.

"It's ok. You went through something incredibly traumatic, and repressed memories can be hard to handle when they finally return. I'd like to help you process them if you'll let me." She answered with compassion in her voice.

"Yea… yea I think that'd be good." Sonny answered.

"I'm glad. Let me pull up my schedule so we can get you in for a time." she said. After a few more minutes of planning and thanking, Sonny hung up and let his head fall back against the couch cushions. He soon heard a knock on the door, and got up - but not too quickly - to let the guys in. All it took was a few moments of silence, then some joking and pizza for Sonny to realize that maybe, just maybe, this whole therapy thing wasn't so bad. But he'd jump in a tank full of various kinds of sharks before he'd admit that out loud. After all, he had a reputation to keep up.


End file.
